


and i will try to fix you

by Anonymous



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “keep it together.”Lando kept chanting to himself, like this repetitive prayer that had been overused and lost its value and charms years ago. He just hoped he could last until the weekend was over, so he could go back to his bubble and repair his façade.
Relationships: Lando Norris & Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65
Collections: Anonymous





	and i will try to fix you

“keep it together.”  
Lando kept chanting to himself, like this repetitive prayer that had been overused and lost its value and charms years ago. He just hoped he could last until the weekend was over, so he could go back to his bubble and repair his façade.

He kept on trying to act all happy and jolly in front of the cameras, because that’s what it all was, an act. A non-scripted play he threw himself into, knowing all the lines. Day in, day out, no breaks, just acting. Keeping everyone entertained just how they liked it.

He’d originally created this façade back in F2 for PR, but he started to use it for more situations, and as the time flew by it had become a norm, a trend. Something they all associated with him, and now and he couldn’t let go of it.

Everyone knew him as the ‘happy, smiley, meme lord rookie that was overly ecstatic all the time’. What would they think if they knew of all his inner demons? What would they say if they saw the real him, the fucked up him? Showed them that he wasn’t all smiles and rainbows. 

He’d started to lose touch with himself more and more the last year after starting in F1 with McLaren. He started to feel more like this empty shell of himself. It felt like this persona, this character that he created for himself to keep everyone happy. And now it had suddenly become more than just a character. It had started to become him, and It scared Lando to bits.

It was race day in a wet Germany, as he walked into the soaked paddock, photographers flying around him like flies, trying to get the perfect shot of his façade. Carlos greeted him halfway through the paddock walk with his usual warm smile as they went to eat breakfast together in the McLaren motorhome. He started a light chat with the brit, which ended up becoming mostly a one-sided monologue from the Spanish driver. 

Carlos had had the better quali of the two drivers, starting from 7th compared to Lando’s disastrous 16th position on the grid. The media pen after that hadn’t exactly been the best either, so he was left with feeling more down than usual. ‘oh well, nothing a bit of acting can’t save’.

They arrived at the McLaren motorhome and started picking out their breakfasts. Lando’s thoughts were swimming off as he sat down in front of Carlos, eating the tasteless food on his plate, and he almost missed Carlos’s question, and only managed to grab the last part of his sentence. 

“...An overtaking masterclass?” Carlos asked with a playful smile, nudging his teammates shoulder. Lando had been in his own world completely, and had no idea what his teammate just said, “I bet you can get yourself up into the top 10 before were halfway through the race” Carlos continued. Lando made a guess for it. “yeah, hopefully.” He said quickly with his usual cheery voice and on point smile. 

The race had gone all the way to hell. Driving an F1 car for the first time in the wet wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but Lando had managed it quite well and had started to pass some other drivers to get up from his miserable starting position in 16th. But his race ended shortly, as he slid on a puddle at the track, and flew the gravel trap on lap 27. He should have known that it wasn’t meant to be this simple. Stupid car! Stupid luck! Stupid strategy! Stupid Lando!

Stupid, stupid, stupid Lando!

He quickly got into the paddock and watched the rest of the race from the pitlane. He kept an eye on the orange blur with a shiny 55 mark on the side with a slightly jealous glare. Why did his car have to slide at exactly that corner? Why couldn’t it have been Carlos who could’ve had such rotten luck? But then again, he wouldn’t want his teammate to DNF as well with such a good result on the way. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like utter shit.

Lando went into the parc fermé and congratulated Carlos on his 5th place. It wasn’t every day that a McLaren took one of the spots that was usually reserved for the top three teams. Lando was happy for Carlos, he really was, but he couldn’t help but feel this uneasy emotion, as if he had failed. And yeah, it wasn’t directly his fault. Its super difficult to drive in the wet, especially if it’s your first time in an F1 car, but he still felt as if he had fucked it up.

God, he felt stupid.

Lando had quickly gone through the media pen, the mask still firmly on, but with a bad result like this he was allowed to crack a small hole in the façade, to show his real disappointment with himself, but he made sure he’d quickly repair it again when he left. 

He didn’t want to celebrate with the team tonight, he really didn’t. but Carlos had scored a 5th, in a McLaren, so he’d have to hold the mask in place a bit more, but he didn’t know if he could hold onto it much longer.

But, like the dutiful puppy that he was, he walked over to the McLaren hospitality, mask firmly in place, ready for the night. ‘just a little bit more’ he thought. ‘Just a few more hours and then I can go back to my misery alone’. No one would want to listen to him anyways, his problems were so stupid and so minor, he didn’t want to bother anyone with that.

Besides, who in their right mind would believe that a successful driver as Lando, would struggle with self-doubt and identity crisis, and with a shitty result as well... people would think he’s selfish and annoying. It just sounds absurd that a person with so much success, even with just getting into F1, would struggle with these kinds of things, and it was. 

Lando had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts, he didn’t realize the 5th place winner was standing in front of him, trying to get through to him.

“hello? Earth to Lando?” he teased. Lando quickly shushed his thoughts away, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. “Eh... yep I’m here, wh.. what were you saying?” he muttered. God he was a disaster on two legs.

“I said, I’m happy you wanted to come over and celebrate with me and the team, even though it wasn’t the best result for you.” Carlos said, smiling a genuine smile. Lando wondered how he did it. “uh, yeah no problem mate! You don’t get a 5th place every day.” He laughed. The mask was back on again. And this time he’ll make sure he wouldn’t slip up again.

As the party went on, Lando started to feel more and more like shit, but being the good boy that he was, he kept the mask firmly in place, keeping up his happy persona, but it was getting more difficult. His cheeks were hurting from all the “happy” smiles he had to hand out like candy on Halloween. He felt like he was on autopilot, knowing what to say and do in every situation to keep everyone happy. He was almost disappointed that people couldn’t see his misery, the truth he was hiding behind his eyes. ‘huh… guess I’m a better actor than I thought.’ He muttered under his breath. 

He quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. As he entered the main room, he put himself in front of the mirror over the sink. He couldn’t recognize his reflection. A shell of the man he used to be was staring back at him, eyes as emotionful and emotionless as always. Who was he anymore? What had he become? He touched his face almost desperately, just to check that it was in fact himself who was staring back at him. 

He felt his breath hitch. What had happened? Why had he ended up like this? How had he ended up like this? A person so desperate for attention, he became a crowd-pleaser and lost himself in the process. He felt something wet run down his cheek, and quickly tried to wipe the tears away, but for no use, as they now came streaming down his cheeks. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck… 

He suddenly heard the creaking from the door, and he quickly dived into one of the cubicles, still trying to keep the tears back, but to no avail.

“hello?” a well-known Spanish accent floated across the room. Lando tried to keep his sobs in but failed as his voice hitched loudly. “Hello, are you ok?” Carlos came again. Fuck, Lando had to answer. 

“yeah… yeah, I’m fine…” Lando quickly stuttered out, hoping he wouldn’t be outed, but of course with his luck Carlos knew exactly who was there.

“Lando? What’s going on, are you ok?!” Carlos asked, his voice sounding more concerned with each word he said. 

“I said I’m fine, go. Go out and celebrate with your..your team now, you deserve it.” Lando stuttered back. This was kind of what Lando wanted but also not at the same time. He wanted someone to notice his struggles, but he didn’t want burden anyone either. 

“but you’re a part of my team as well, cabron, and I can’t let you sit in here alone.” Carlos answered softly, trying not to intimidate the emotional 20-year-old. “please come out and talk to me, yeah?”

Carlos didn’t hear anything after that, instead he heard a lock open from one of the cubicles, and a red eye rimmed, messy haired Lando stepped out. He was hesitant at first, but as Carlos slowly opened his arms to him, he quickly embraced the Spanish driver, as Lando’s knees gave out on him, and they both sank down to the floor. 

Lando cried as if he had been holding in tears for decades. Long and loud sobs was dragged out of him as he buried his face in Carlos’s neck. They stayed like this for a good 5 minutes, not saying a word to each other, just Lando crying over Carlos’s shoulder as he petted Lando’s back in a soft intimate way. 

As Lando’s sobs began to become more like dry heaving, Carlos slowly removed Lando’s head from his shoulder so he could get a look at the driver before him.

Lando looked like an absolute mess. Drying tear streaks were running all over his face like wild rivers, his hair was an absolute mess, and he was breathing way too quickly. 

“hey there cabron.” Carlos said as softly as he possibly could. “try to breathe with me, yeah?” He took Lando’s hand carefully into his own and guided it onto his own chest as he started to breathe slowly and loudly so Lando could easier follow.

“in..2, 3, 4, and out…2,3,4. Great job Lando.” He praised, as the British youngster tried to follow his rhythm. “i… I can’t... I... can’t.” Lando stressed, tears threatening to spill yet again. “of course, you can, just follow my lead, cabron” he added to try to make Lando feel more at ease. “just follow my breathing… in…2, 3, 4, and out…2, 3, 4,”

They kept this up, Carlos giving Lando encouraging compliments as his breathing slowly but surely died down, and they both sat together in a mess on the floor. 

“Lando?” Carlos asked, careful not to startle Lando. A quiet “yes.” Was all he got. “do you want to talk about it?” 

They both knew what they meant. This whole situation, how Lando suddenly ended up having a panic attack at the bathroom of his fucking motorhome. 

Just as Carlos was about to give up and go up, Lando suddenly spoke up “i… I don’t know who I am anymore…” he said, his voice still shaken. “what do you mean, cabron?” 

Lando finally broke.

“I… I keep on acting all happy in front of the camera, and…and I can’t keep it up.. I can’t be happy all the time. Its so exhausting and I keep on acting up like a character, but I’ve been doing it so, so much lately, and I can’t keep it up anymore. But people only know me as “good ol’ happy Lando” and… I just can’t.”

It burst out if the young brit, who threw his head onto Carlos’s shoulder for the second time that night. And Carlos kept on patting him comfortingly on the back. Lando couldn’t cry anymore. He had emptied himself for tears. Now he was just seeking comfort and closeness from his best friend.

“oh cabron,” Carlos kept rubbing at Lando’s back. “thank you for telling me.”

Lando looked up from Carlos’s shoulder and they made eye-contact. Finally someone knew, and even better, someone he could trust. He didn’t have to bear it all alone anymore. 

So there they sat, arms wrapped around each other, not speaking a word, one of them comforting the other. ‘maybe this wouldn’t be so bad’ Lando thought as he leaned into his teammates shoulder once more.

No, it wouldn’t be bad at all.


End file.
